


The Return

by arrowinthesky (restfulsky5)



Series: Not the Final Act [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actor, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Comment Fic, Community: jim_and_bones, Falling In Love, Friendship, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mistakes, Pining, Reconciliation, Romance, Serious Illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 21:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8225956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/restfulsky5/pseuds/arrowinthesky
Summary: "Winona, you have to give me more than that."She sucked in a breath and spun around, striding toward him with a fierce expression. She was at least six inches shorter than he was, but when she stood at her full height and pointed her finger at him, he was the one who fell short."No, that's where you're wrong, McCoy. I'm not obligated to give you anything," she said through clenched teeth. "But since you're here, you will listen to me. Right now, all my son needs is peace and quiet, no one to bother him. Including you. You left him, McCoy."





	

**Author's Note:**

> This short story was inspired by a series of photos on the LJ site for Jim & Bones. I've expanded this as requested by a few other readers. ;) I've also labeled it as part of a series, just in case I feel like adding to their story at a later date. 
> 
> Thank you, Diamondblue4 and Junker5, for betaing this for me!

* * *

 

“Thought you retired, McCoy!”

Hearing Sulu’s voice, one of the other guards outside the hotel, brought back a million memories of a job he’d once enjoyed and excelled at. Leonard tried to smile as he strode past the parade of fans, tried to look like he’d never left this assignment two years ago. He wished he’d never abandoned the bodyguard business, heading straight for a way—a fling—to get over someone he could never have. Said fling with Jocelyn had ended as an inevitable, badly cliched “bitter breakup.” He still wished he’d left, but for different reasons.

Abandoning a job he’d loved over, well, love had been a bad idea.

He’d been younger and stupid. His assignment couldn’t have possibly loved him back, but he’d fallen for him quickly, anyway. The last thing he should’ve done on the job. By week three, he’d fallen hard, completely enamored upon realizing that the Jim Kirk he saw in the media wasn’t the same man he’d been protecting. By week one hundred and two, he’d felt like his heart had been in a meat grinder for nearly two years. He couldn’t look in the mirror in the morning any longer and lie to himself that he was perfectly fine keeping Jim at arm’s length.

He'd been protecting someone that he’d become close friends with. That he _loved_ , which was, in itself, a dangerous business. He couldn’t make a mistake. Leaving Jim to his glamorous if tedious life and handing him over to a different bodyguard had been the only thing he could’ve done.

Jocelyn had been the drug he’d needed to get over a high-profile actor that was too damn handsome for his own good.

“I did,” he tossed back over his shoulder, clicking the pen that he held in his hand. “This is short-term.”

Whose pen was this, anyway? He’d been talking to Chris about their intended route back to the condo which would house the actors before he’d stepped out into the chaos. Also signing papers, since his return had been rather hasty. Chris had said he needed him, that they were short-handed, but he still hadn’t completely explained why he’d needed him so much.

“Good to have you back, even if it’s short,” Sulu called out, approaching him with a smile. “See Jim yet? You know you’re assigned to him, right?”

His fake smile froze on his face. He stopped and turned around completely, the anxious faces of Jim’s fans on the other side of the gates circling him but in slow motion.

That was one thing Pike had failed to mention. He’d said ‘one of the actors’ and he’d ‘find out when he got there.’ Of the five he knew were here at this particular hotel, Nyota was the only one he’d wanted to follow around all day, especially if it meant he could possibly annoy her boyfriend, Spock. Hendorff didn’t need a damn babysitter. Chekov was everyone's pet, but Sulu liked him best. Christine was an old fling and off limits because of that. Mitchell was the last idiot on earth that he wanted, but…

Dammit.

What were the odds?

He should’ve known. Pike hadn’t told him, knowing he’d hightail it outta here.

Jim? He’d take Mitchell over Jim. All Jim Kirk had ever done was make his life miserable.

 

He pressed the lever on the pen.

Jim Kirk was too...too much work.

Jim Kirk pulled stunts to shake off his bodyguards.

He pressed it again.

Jim was the reason he’d left.

Jim had those damn eyes that had him weak in the knees.

He pressed it again, growing more agitated.

Jim had that quirk of his lips when he smiled, a smile that he wanted just for himself.

Jim would be the death of him.

He gripped the pen so hard that his hand shook.

Steadiest hands? Hardly. He was off his game, just like that. Jim always did that to him.

Sulu had caught up to him, grinning wider. “He’ll be happy to see you. You’ve ten minutes to get out here with him. Good luck. You’ll need it.”

Leonard pulled himself out his nightmare and nodded. “Thanks. See ya around, Sulu,” he managed.

He turned and headed back towards the hotel, making his way toward the double doors. After showing his ID, he silently repeated the room number to himself.

1701...1701...17—

Security opened the door for him and he entered, holding his breath.

Jim was nowhere in sight.

He frowned, and stepped into the middle of the suite.

“Mister Kirk?”

A second later, he heard the sound of water running coming from what must be the bathroom.

He pulled up his suit sleeve and glanced down at his watch. They had eight minutes. Not good. Not sure why Pike had given him this hasty assignment, either. Maybe it wasn’t too late to back out of this one. A favor was a favor, and he owed Pike, but this was going...a bit too far.

But when it came down to it, he did his job. He’d signed papers and Jim...Jim must be the one they were most worried about.

 

He firmed his jaw and knocked on the door. “Mister Kirk?”

“Busy,” a muffled voice said.

He closed his eyes in frustration, grimacing when he turned the handle and found that door was locked. “We don’t have time for you to take a shower.”

“Bath.”

“Nor a bath,” he said loudly.

Silence.

“Your full cooperation ensures the safety of the others,” he continued, knowing exactly what he needed to do to get Jim Kirk moving. “We have to move—”

The door unlocked, footsteps fading. Leonard gave him a few seconds and slowly opened the door.

Jim was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, dressed except for his socks and shoes.

He didn’t seem surprised to see him.

Jim bent over and dipped his finger in the water, making a wave. “Thought you wouldn’t show. I asked for you, you know."

He hadn't known. “You know me. I like to do the impossible.”

Jim’s hand stilled. “You mean...taking me on as your assignment, right?” He gave a short, dry laugh. “The out-of-control party boy.”

 

He winced. He knew Jim was sensitive underneath that bravado. He also knew...Jim was far from being that description of himself. “That didn’t come out right. I didn’t know you—”

“Doesn’t matter, Bones,” Jim said softly. He looked up, his eyes brighter and bluer by the clear water. “For the record, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Sorry...about leaving,” he said, then cleared his throat. “The way I did.”

A vulnerable expression grew on Jim’s face. “Yeah...that...hurt.”

Guilt flooded him, but he bit his tongue.

“Then never hearing from you again?” Jim said breathlessly.

He gritted his teeth. Yeah, he’d been an ass. But there’d been more to it than just disappearing overnight.

Telling Jim the truth here—now—it just wasn’t the right time.

Jim’s shoulders hunched, his face oddly pale. “It sucked, man.”

“I’m sorry, Jim.”

“You’re not going to do that again, are you?” Jim asked, looking a decade younger when he put both of his feet in the water like a damn kid.

“You’re not going to pull stupid stunts again, are ya?”

Jim looked up at him through his lashes, smile small. “Touché.”

“Jim, Pike warned me, and I’ve seen the news,” he said quietly. “You have to be careful. Two attempts on your life?”

He was honestly surprised that Jim was coming out to mingle with fans and sign autographs. Yes, the area was more secure than his grandmother's kitchen when she was baking her award-winning pies, but it was still dangerous. And, dangerous for him, too. Jim’s last bodyguard had been in the ICU for three weeks and was now looking at an early retirement. The one before that—what could he say, he checked up on Jim whenever he could—had nearly died taking a bullet for Jim.

“You’re here now, right?” Jim said in a small voice.

He broke a little inside, hearing the question, ‘you’re not leaving me again?’ instead.

“Yeah,” he said in a soft voice. “I am.”

Jim’s relief was palpable.

“And here to stay,” he added.

“Yeah?”

“It’s in my contract,” he said lightly.

“In that case, I’ll be fine.” Jim’s smile bloomed, a kindness that he wasn’t sure he deserved.

 

At least...not yet.

 

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Two weeks after Bones walked back into his life, Jim’s tour in Europe ended. He’d been exhausted before he’d even begun the tour for his new movie, hopping on one plane and then the next, and now wasn’t sure he could find the strength to step out of the car, let alone walk to the front door. He’d been working non-stop, twenty-four hours a day, hardly enough time to eat well-balanced meals or sleep. Not that he would have slept, anyway. Knowing people were after you did that to a person. Not to mention the nightmares he’d started having.

The SUV stopped outside of his mother’s home, which was also his home, a mansion in Hollywood. It was Winona’s second house. Jim’s only dwelling. Her main home was in Iowa, but since someone had almost killed him twice, she’d been advised to hang out in California with her son indefinitely. They had a good relationship now, which made up for the crappy one they’d had for over a decade, and Jim was grateful for the company.

His mother was more of a friend now, anyway. And, contrary to belief, he was often alone. Especially since Bones had left. His partying lifestyle was all an act to throw people off. Hell, he was still a virgin, a fact he still had a hard time believing himself, nor did he tell a single soul. He’d never really met anyone he liked enough to fall into bed with them—until he’d met Bones.

He’d vowed never to tell Bones that he cared for him. He had been his only true friend during those early years of his career. Finding authentic friends was difficult in his line of work. Keeping them was even harder.

Bones had a heart of gold that Jim still dreamed about.

He leaned his head against the seat, the headache he’d had earlier now a full-blown migraine. He hoped his mom didn’t want to chit-chat. He really wasn’t in the mood. He needed to find a bed before any of his other symptoms worsened. His arms and hands tingled, and he had a blind spot in his left eye. Things he didn't mention to his bodyguard, though he should.

If he could just make it into the house, talk with his mom, he’d be alright and could sweep this under the rug.

“Ya alright?” Bones asked softly.

“Fine,” he mumbled.

Someone opened his door, and he fumbled with his sunglasses. He wished they were real glasses, so he could see better. Fingers brushed against his and placed his sunglasses on his face for him, adjusting them on his nose. The same hand gave him a little push out the door, another security agent pulling him up from the backseat.

He staggered into the sunlight. Bones, as always, caught him.

 

“Ya sure?” his bodyguard said gruffly in his ear.

He steadied himself and held out a palm, indicating he wanted to be left alone.

“Alright,” Bones said quietly, backing away.

The inches between them felt like miles, but he could've sworn he felt the brush of Bones’s hands against his.

He swayed, lacking the energy to walk again. He lifted a hand to his aching head.

“Another one?” Bones asked just as gruffly as before.

He shuffled forward, silent.

Bones sighed and took him by the arm. “Ya know, when I took this job again, I wasn’t plannin’ on becoming your nursemaid, too.”

Weariness settling deep within his bones, his head drooped of its own accord. He wanted to laugh but the laughter died in his throat. The migraines had been coming on too fast, too often. He knew they worried Bones, who’d had no idea they were even an issue until he’d come back.

The migraines had started the first day he’d left Jim without a word.

Friends?

Yeah, right.

And now he’d come back. Just waltzing in, taller, smarter, and funnier than he'd remembered. Bones would deny that he had a sense of humor, or that he was smart. But he was. Bones had something special. Jim saw it, even if no one else did.

Few laughed with him, except for the people he worked with. That Bones could joke with him had made all the difference in the world on his exceptionally busy but lonely days.

They made their way inside the house, security more or less carrying him by the arms up the steps and through the doors. Probably to make sure he got inside before anyone could get a real glimpse of him. He'd never get used to being manhandled, but in this instance he was grateful for the extra help.

“Oh, Jimmy,” a soft voice exclaimed the moment he walked inside.

He was so out of it that he didn't even get a good look at Winona’s face before she embraced him. She pulled him closer than anyone had the past two weeks.

“Ma,” he breathed, inhaling the comforting scent of vanilla.

“I missed you, baby,” she said, squeezing him gently. “Another migraine? I talked to that doctor. I made you an appointment.”

He inwardly groaned. Now that Bones knew it was so bad that he had to consult a physician, he’d never hear the end of it.

Uhura had told him a long time ago that Bones had returned to his first love—being a doctor—for the years he’d left Jim. Although it had hurt, Jim had been proud that he'd made the decision to do that, even if it meant Bones stepping back into his father’s shadow.

But if Bones knew that this wasn’t the only doctor he’d seen, he would never hear the end of it. He’d try to solve his problem for him, which was, in his opinion, a self-made one. He’d worked himself too hard, expected far too much of himself than was even normal. But, missing the one person in his life who made him feel like he’d never felt before, he’d thrown himself into more work than ever. Thinking, that when it was all said and done, he’d forget the way he’d opened his heart to him.

“When is that appointment?’ Bones asked, leading Jim to the couch.

Jim sank onto the cushions, his mother taking the seat beside him.

“Two days,” she replied, feeling his forehead.

“Not soon enough,” Bones muttered.

“You’re warm, Jimmy. I knew you’d push too hard.”

“Have to,” he croaked.

“You know what we talked about.”

“One more, Ma.”

“Ma,” she laughed softly. “Don't know why you call me that instead of mother or Winona, but I like it.”

“One more what?” Bones asked.

“Didn't Jim tell you?” she asked, her voice filled with surprise.

Jim tucked his head against hers as she kneaded his neck for him. There hadn’t been time to talk. Not really.

“Jimmy’s done after he fulfills his current contract, which will be in about a year.” She paused. “Here, Leonard, why don’t you take over while I find his medication? He likes a gentle touch.”

Jim sucked in a breath, ready to protest, but they were too quick for him. Bones’s arms were holding him, his fingers massaging his neck before he could think twice.

“How long has this been going on, Jim?” Bones murmured.

He grunted in reply, the pain settling fast and hard. He’d need a wastebasket soon, his stomach rolling with nausea.

“That long?” Bones said dryly. “You need time off _now_ , Jim.”

He didn’t need time off. If he stopped completely, would that mean Bones would leave?

“That must be why Pike said this job was for only a year,” Bones murmured. “You really are quitting?”

He reached and clutched Bones’s forearm, squeezing it.

“Alright, I almost didn’t believe it,” Bones said. “It’s probably best. One year, and then your life can quiet down, and we’ll all leave you alone.”

Alone? He’d be more alone than ever if that happened. His heart dropped. It was a sinking feeling that he couldn’t bear. “No,” he rasped. “Stay.”

“I’m not leav—”

“Stay.”

 

Bones grew quiet.

Jim breathed in shakily. “H-hang around. After I’m. D-d—”

“Hush,” Bones interrupted, placing two fingers on his lips. “You want me to stay after you’re done? After your contract’s ended?”

“Ugnh.”

“I don’t need to be asked twice,” Bones murmured, cupping Jim’s chin.

Jim leaned into the touch, sighing deeply.

“We’ll get to the bottom of these migraines,” Bones whispered. “And then we’ll talk about this again—”

He heard the faint footsteps of his mother.

Bones kissed his cheek, a faint pressing along his cheekbone, but a kiss, nonetheless.

He wondered what made him do that. A slip? Or was it purposeful?

They’d never crossed the line like this, even this little.

It was hard not to read into it, the hint of scruff rough against his skin. Bones was merely comforting him.

“—I promise, Jim.”

 

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Leonard guarded Jim’s room with his ear to the door the next few days. He sensed that both Jim and Winona were keeping secrets, which was understandable. Especially after the extended doctor’s appointment yesterday that Jim had hardly been well enough to keep in the first place. However, certain secrets couldn’t be kept if he was to do his job correctly. Like the ones they were hiding.

He was practiced at eavesdropping, and eavesdropping without getting caught.

So far, he’d learned that Jim has been suffering from more than just migraines. The symptoms were far worse than he’d expected. Yet they explained so much that he wondered how he'd miss them. He hadn’t caught all of them. Just the headaches, and sometimes the way Jim stammered as he talked. The depth-perception issues when he reached for something. He’d tripped, spilled liquids, ran into doors more than once over the last two weeks.

None of it was good. Being a doctor, himself, those symptoms were of great concern. Being in the dark was driving him crazy.

He needed to know what was going on, but he hadn’t gained all of Jim’s trust back yet. Not that he could blame him. However, after seeing him by the bathtub, seeing his vulnerability all over again, Leonard had already determined that he would wait as long as he had to this time.

Hearing the sound of footsteps nearing the door, he resumed his position.

Winona opened the door and turned around, jumping when she saw him.

“Oh, you scared me,” she gasped, her hand flying to her chest. She breathed out, eyes closing. “You're so quiet.”

“I apologize, ma’am,” he said politely, closing the door for her. As he did so, he peeked in but saw no sign of Jim, nothing that indicated that he was up. Which meant, he was still in bed. An oddity, for Jim was an early-riser.

She shook her head hastily. “I knew you were here, I just...Jim is…” She swallowed. “He’s…”

They were both quiet.

He fought back a sigh. “Is he sick this morning?” he asked, knowing perfectly well that he was.

He hadn’t seen Jim since he’d last checked on him just before dawn. Jim had still been sleeping, snoring lightly. At least he hadn’t had another migraine then—or any other symptom he was trying to hide from him.

“He’s going to need help today,” she said simply.

But her eyes held a worry he’d never seen in them before.

He narrowed his eyes. “Winona, if there is something going on that is so concerning that you’ve refused to let me in to check his room again, then I’m afraid—”

“It’s his vision,” she said, voice tremulous.

“Vision?” he repeated, something close to fear already beginning to gnaw at his gut.

“We already called the doctor about it,” she said, straightening. She brushed past him. “He’s moving up the recommended...treatment. Said Jim just needs to rest in the meantime.”

“Winona, you have to give me more than that.”

She sucked in a breath and spun around, striding toward him with a fierce expression. She was at least six inches shorter than he was, but when she stood to her full height and pointed her finger at him, he was the one who fell short.

“No, that's where you're wrong, McCoy. I’m not obligated to tell you a damn thing,” she said through clenched teeth. “But since you're here, you _will_ listen to me. Right now, all my son needs is peace and quiet, no one to bother him. Including you. You left him, McCoy. You left him when he was in love with you, and you with him, and you didn’t have the balls to tell him yourself. You might think to yourself that Jim was a coward, too, for not saying anything, but he’s not like you. He’s never dated anyone like you think he has. He never ran away from his problems, only to sleep with a woman that he met, just on a whim, again—like you did.”

He blinked at her, stunned.

He opened his mouth to protest, to explain, abandoning both options as he realized she was right and he needed to let her know he agreed, but she just kept going.

“In fact, he’s innocent in more ways than you could possibly imagine. A tough life for a kid in this line of work, but Jim is unique. And you left him.” Her hand dropped, but the fiery accusation hadn't faded from her eyes. “And now you come in, thinking you can just snap your fingers and he’ll come to you like a dog. It won’t work that way this time. I know Pike hired you, because Jim needed someone that knew him like the back of his own hand when he wasn't well. And though Pike was smart to think that way, I was against it. Because I know my son.”

He swallowed. “If it would make things better, I will revoke—”

“No,” she snapped. “If you leave for a second time it will destroy him. You’ve made him even more vulnerable than before with your return, and now, with the doctor’s diag…” She blinked, tears filling her eyes. “Diagnos…diag...”

Her voice trailed off as she seemed to fight back a sob with sheer will. She hunched forward with her arm across her chest, her hair obscuring her face.

He stood, hands clenched at his sides, feeling helpless. Winona never cried. Never.

“He just needs time…” she said, her tears beginning to fall. “Not you, McCoy. Or...or even me. T-time.”

He grasped her gently by the arms, willing her to look at him. “What is the diagnosis?” he asked quietly, using his most professional voice.

She lifted her head, her eyes red and a watery mess. There was nothing redeemable in his previous actions, nothing that could’ve prompted her to tell him a damn thing, and he half-expected her to tell him off again. He deserved it. He deserved every bit of it.

But she did. With that Kirkian determination, she lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eye.

“What is it? A tumor,” she breathed. “A fucking tumor.”

 

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Jim heard him come into the room not long after his mom had left. He wasn't sure of the time, though. Before, disconcerting as it was, he'd only had blind spots. This morning, however, he’d awakened without his sight completely.

And, for the very first time that he could remember, he’d awakened without the desire to see Bones.

Ironic, since he really was blind, at least for now. The doctor had given him a harsh prognosis, but he was to undergo surgery in just three short days. After which, they would need time to see if his blindness had been reversed. And even more time to recuperate.

“Seeing” Bones would only remind him that his life was as small and lonely as it was before. Fame and awards and money didn’t make a life. Friendship did. And, maybe in some other lifetime, Bones. But this Bones...he wasn’t giving in to anything. That kiss on the cheek had been a fluke. Just as he’d first thought.

“Your mom told me,” Bones said softly from his right. “I’m sorry, Jim.”

The bed dipped beside him, but Jim never budged. He stared up at the ceiling, where he saw only darkness.

“If you want,” he began hoarsely, “I’ll ask Pike to find someone else, so you don’t have to deal with this. I'll tell him...tell him it was my fault.”

“Are you crazy?”

“No, but I am blind,” Jim said.

“Not funny, and not for long,” Bones gritted out.

He turned on his side, away from him. “You don’t know that.”

“You don’t know that the blindness won’t go away.”

“The brain tumor’s nearly inoperable,” he whispered. “That’s what they said. They also said, in not so many words, that I should’ve told someone about the migraines sooner. I'm an idiot, Bones.”

A moment passed before Bones sighed. “You’re not the idiot Jim. _I’ve_ been the idiot.”

Jim wasn’t sure where Bones was going with that, but he just waited and listened. There was nothing else for him to do, anyway. He wasn't himself, his body wasn’t his, already being taken over by this thing in his brain.

Bones sighed again. “I left, Jim, because I’d fallen for you and I couldn’t do my job.”

“Why did you come back?” he whispered.

Bones was quiet. “Pike was quite convincing, but I think part of me just wanted to be around you, even if...even if you were untouchable to me.”

Could he not have thought of a better time to rub salt on his wounds? “It’s been more than two years—”

“I know it has, Jim,” Bones interrupted firmly. “And I don't want another two hours going by without letting you know how I truly feel about you. And after I do, if you don’t want me around, I’ll leave. Just like that. No questions asked.”

“You’re doing this because of the tumor,” he said painfully, hiding his face in his pillow.

Of all the rotten times for Bones to speak up about his feelings, it had to be now. It had to be when he was at his lowest.

The rage he’d felt at Bones’s departure, the anger that had been at the surface all this time, finally oozed over. He let out a feral cry, the sound muffled by the pillow.

He wanted to order Bones from his room—but he also wanted to order him to stay forever.

“Jim, I hope you can forgive me,” Bones said quietly. “If not today. Someday.”

Despite his better judgement, he already had.

“I can’t,” he gasped.

“I see,” Bones said after a moment.

He dug his fingers into the pillow.

The bed jostled, indicating Bones had risen.

“Well, I will go, then,” Bones said in his “working” voice. “Like I said.”

“You...you misunderstand,” he whispered, choking down another cry.

“Jim?”

Jim turned his head, his blind gaze aimed toward Bones’s voice. “I don’t want you to leave,” he said.

“You don’t?”

“I...I don’t.”

“Then what do you want?” Bones asked slowly. “This is about you, Jim. Not about me. I’m sorry I made it about me before. It wasn’t right. It should’ve been...about us.”

Jim reached out his hand, palm up. “It is about us,” he said, chest tight. “Stay.”

He held his breath, waiting. _Pleading_.

“If I stay,” Bones began, “This current arrangement isn’t going to work. Jim, I can’t... _protect_ you—”

“Why don't you think you can protect me?”

A warm hand enclosed his. “Because I’m constantly trying to stare into your eyes instead of watching out for you, dimwit.”

Jim snorted. “Dimwit? Don’t you have better bedside manners than that? I’m a sick man.”

Bones eased onto the bed beside him. “You’ll get through this,” he said, caressing his face. “You’re strong, Jim.”

“If I don’t, will you take c-care of my mom?” he asked.

If a tear slipped down his cheek, and if Bones caught it with his finger, it was never spoken of again.

“She has n-no one,” he said, wishing for the thousandth time that his father and brother were still alive. “Like m-me,” he added as an afterthought.

“I’ll take care of her, Jim,” Bones said. “I promise.”

Bones’s arms slipped around his waist and under his shoulder as he drew him close. “And you’re not alone, not any longer. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to ya.”

Jim submitted to his embrace, allowing him to press his head against his chest where he cradled it there.

The rest of the morning passed quietly, Bones never leaving his side. He fell asleep quickly, listening to the steady, comforting beats of his heart.

 

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Leonard absently ran his fingers through Jim’s hair. The younger man was slack in his arms, sleeping. It seemed like Jim needed to sleep, his body demanding it from him, so he didn’t disturb him. As much as he wanted to finish his proclamation and explain his intentions, it would have to wait.

Besides, Winona would be coming back soon to check on Jim and bring his medication. He wasn’t too sure he wanted to face mama bear again quite so soon, even though she’d essentially given him a wake-up call, but he’d promised Jim that he’d stay and stay he would.

“Jim, I gotta tell you something,” Leonard whispered, pressing a kiss to his head. “I know I messed things up. Badly. I'd do anything to take it back. Anything. Because I love you and have loved you for years, even from afar, when I wasn't around. One day, you’ll know it in your heart to be true and find...that you can trust me again. Maybe even the same day that you walk outta that hospital with that beautiful smile on your face and a life ahead of you to live.”

He paused, feeling silly for saying these things when Jim was sound asleep. He took a deep breath and vowed to finish.

“I love you, Jim,” he continued. “For being you and for taking a second chance on us. No matter what happens, you'll have a life. If I'm lucky enough, I'll be the one who shares it with you.”

 

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Winona latched the door behind her. McCoy might be a damn good bodyguard, and skilled at eavesdropping.

But so was she.

She also knew how to provoke a man into proclaiming his love, though she'd meant every single word she'd said to McCoy. She'd gotten George to proclaim his love to her, hadn't she? And then had seven magnificent years with him before he’d died.

McCoy had only gotten halfway, however, finally spilling his guts after Jim had fallen asleep.

She must be losing her touch.

She’d have to try again, but maybe tomorrow. At the very latest, before the surgery. Not after.

It might not be a happy day, or a day with the promise of many happy days ahead, at least not yet. But now that her son had his first and only love beside him, there was hope.

And, with hope, as it was with love, they could not help but endure.

She reached for her cell phone, quickly making a call.

_“Hello? Win? How is he?”_

“He’s as expected, Chris, but he’s better now, thanks to you,” she said. “You were right, as always—”

He laughed lightly. _“I had a hunch about them, that's all."_

“—It worked like a charm.”

He hummed. “ _I suppose this means that I'll have to find Jim a new bodyguard, now.”_

Someone would come along. The important thing was that her very sick son wasn't alone anymore.

“You'll find the best one for the job.” She smiled softly. “You always do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I left this open ended, and you can interpret it as you wish, until it suits my fancy to add to the series. However, the series' title may clue you in to a little of what I envision. :)


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